cruciform, and almost covered with frescoes, which, if not very good as works of art, are at least highly picturesque. The papal benefactors of the monastery are represented between the arches, which are supported by ancient granite pillars. The ceiling is richly carved in wood. At the cross is an intricate pavement of opus-alexandrium. The whole of the western wall above the door is occupied by a fresco of the Last Judgment, which, when executed, was considered "so terrible to behold, that those who looked upon it thought of nothing but death for many days."

The choir is now stripped of its "choir books plated with gold and silver and set with gems," and is no longer rich in "gold and silver ornaments, and in dresses for the officiating. priests, embroidered with gold, and studded with precious stones," but a beautiful paschal-candlestick remains, a real work of art, though only carved in wood. On the left of the

altar is the Chapel of S. Lorenzo Siro, where he is buried, and where the brazen hoop of the scatola in which he carried a famous picture of the Virgin to Farfa is preserved. This picture is still over the high-altar: four heads, the Virgin, with the Bambino beneath, and two seraphins set in goldblack of course, and attributed to St. Luke. On the right is the chapel of the second founder, Tomaso, with a picture of him receiving the commands of the Virgin; the hill of Farfa and the three cypresses of Lorenzo are represented in the background. Here also, and in other parts of the church, the original building is pourtrayed with two towers, only one of which remains.

It

The vast monastic buildings are now chiefly used as a farm. In the corner of the cloister is an ancient well, apparently a relic of some pagan temple on this site, to which the pillars of the church also probably belonged. is beautifully sculptured with the Battle of the Amazons in high relief. Outside, is the terrace, where the Chronicle says. that the monks were sitting before supper, in the year 1125, when "they beheld the tower of the castle of Farfa stricken and burnt by a flash of lightning."

It was a picture seldom seen now in Italy, when the carriage came to take us away from Farfa and the venerable abbot with his few remaining monks came out to take leave of us. He had invited us to stay, as the abbey is no longer clausura, and the ladies of our party could have been accommodated," though," he added, "as there were neither beds nor chairs, they might not be very comfortable." As he stood in the gateway, under the old fresco, the whole population of the little town gathered around him, with perfect

friendly confidence in him, and farewell speeches for usand it gave one an idea of what the paternal relation must often have been between the abbots and their people in these secluded places, and of what might have been their influence.

CHAPTER XXII.

CIVITA CASTELLANA AND ITS NEIGHBOURHOOD.

THIS

HIS is quite one of the most interesting parts of Italy, and is far too little known. Scarcely one traveller in a thousand ever visits Civita Castellana, though it stands. amid the noblest scenery imaginable, possesses the most delightful air and lovely views over the mountains, and is only two hours distant from Rome. The inns are very humble, but bearable. The Croce Bianca is the best, though there is a fine view from La Posta. To the archeologist the neighbourhood of Civita opens a wonderful mine of interest hitherto almost unexplored, while to the botanist and geologist it would prove scarcely less attractive. An artist might pass months here fully employed upon the glorious scenery, though there is no variety of costume in this country, as in. the mountain villages south of Rome.

On the last day of April, a most lovely fresh sunny morning, we took our tickets at Rome for the Borghetto station on the Florence line of railway. It is rather more than an hour's journey across the Campagna, passing close under the hill of Fidenæ, and seeing, beyond it, Monte Rotondo on the right, and the town of Corese, the ancient Cures, which Dionysius calls the greatest of Sabine cities, on the left.

Several carriages were waiting at Borghetto, and we travelled pleasantly into the delicious clover-scented uplands, stopping

by the way to admire the grand old castle with its tall tower and ruined church, standing on a tufa rock just above the railway. Beyond, in the hollow, flows the stealthy Tiber, which here makes such immense bends amongst the lowlying pasture lands that one pities the passengers in the river steamers, which till a few years ago were the chief means of communication between Rome and Borghetto. As we were carried merrily on over the luxuriant hay-fields, between hedges of wild roses and cistus, we looked across the valley to Maglian Sabina gleaming white against the dark mountain steeps. Suddenly, without any previous sign, the pastures opened, and we found ourselves on the edge of a gulf in the tufa, a deep abyss of rock where the evergreen shrubs and honeysuckle fell in perfect cascades of luxuriance over the red and yellow tufa cliffs, stained here and there with dashes of black and brown, and perforated with Etruscan tombs of various sizes, reached by narrow pathways along the face of the precipice. In the misty depths the little river Treja wanders

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